


kind of magic

by soyamilked (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cute story, Established Relationship, Fluff, Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, KageHina - Freeform, Like, M/M, also there's like a hint of smut, also this is for hanna (did i spell your name right omigosh im sorry), but yeah so much fluff, carnivals, im terrible im sorry, so much fluff holy heck its so grosssss, this was supposed to be from like idk man thirty weeks ago shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/soyamilked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you have a good sleep?” The question is mumbled into Hinata’s ruffled hair, and he turns over to bury his face on the crook of Kageyama’s neck. “Mhm,” he says, wriggling closer.<br/>“Did you? Have a good sleep?” “Yes, I did.” Hinata sighs contentedly against his skin and when he sits up he’s all smiles and sunlight hits his bare back in the most ethereal way and he’s beautiful even when his hair looks likes a disaster and he trips over himself when he shimmies into his boxers. Kageyama let’s his gaze linger on the marks he left, purple-blue bruises peppered over his back and his chest, trailing up his neck and behind his ears. He’d check himself later, too, eyeing his reflection, flustered as his own gangly fingers smooth over his brightly bruised skin.</p><p>[*]</p>
            </blockquote>





	kind of magic

**Author's Note:**

> this is also an apology to the peeps that endured "remember me" and all the shitty angst that came along w/ it ok ilysm thanks and bye ok but for reals pls read remember me before u read this alright

Maybe its just a Kageyama Tobio thing. Maybe it wasn’t. He’s not sure. He’s never sure, not with Hinata, wild, alive, unpredictable Hinata. Kageyama prefers the sun, always the sun, and he wanted the sun, and the bright sparkling bars that carried motes of dusty light with it. He loved the summer, and the golden brilliance of everything that didn’t wilt or dry out, and _Hinata_ –

He’s like a summer of his own, skin soft like moist sand, eyes brighter than the morningstar. His smile is alive and it carries static, a wild zap of energy that courses through him and the people around him. He threads his fingers through Hinata’s hair and smiles ever-so-slightly, lips loose and cheeks tinted pink. Hinata says nothing and just watches him, because he’s so deep in concentration, studying every strand of hair. They’re alone in Kageyama’s bedroom (his parents are away) and everything is dark except for the flickering lights from his television, casting weak glows on their bodies tangled together on the bed. Kageyama’s eyes are barely focused on the screen, and they find that they’re paying more attention to each other than the movie. And even in the dim lighting, he sees the sun in Hinata, through the stained glass windows of his eyes, shimmering in his hair. His heartbeat had never been so loud. It was a soft and steady pace, repetitive, undying. It was music. That was how he said.

– _Oh,_ Hinata was the sun.

It’s three in the morning, and Hinata calls because he’s scared. It’s the match, he figures. Anxiety. Kageyama sighs, but picks up the phone. Hinata’s breathing is heavy, damp and way too loud. It held this kind of nervousness that made the line wrinkle, sending hot waves that crinkled in the reciever. “Kageyama,” he says, and it’s still nervous, still afraid. “I woke up,” he continues, voice spluttering to a hardly understandable drabble of words that barely left his mouth. “Drink some water–slowly,” he replies. Kageyama knows what to do. It’s happened rather often, and most of the time they just need a second together, just a kiss, just a touch, a quiet reassurance and a squeezing of hands, but it’s different on the phone, when distance is their obstacle and walls kept them away, when they had nothing but softspoken romances and telephone wires. Hinata does– Kageyama heard the distant clink of the glass and the slosh of water. They let the minutes pass, and Hinata yawns on his end and Kageyama tells him to get some rest. He does, and in the morning he is bright and chip, like always, if not more than usual. Good. He should be. Hinata smiles when their eyes meet, and Hinata walks alongside his bike instead of riding, and they keep a steady pace. Their knuckles brush against each others’ arms sometimes, and Hinata flushes a dark, berry red and giggles a little. His eyes aren’t just windows, no, they are diamonds glistening in soft morning light and they offer his sunlight soul to Kageyama. Kageyama sees that when he looks at Hinata. Hinata smiles.

Its autumn, and Hinata is ecstatic. Its ridiculous, but Kageyama doesn’t seem to mind. Why would he? His spiker laughs and stuffs leaves in his jacket and makes spiced pumpkin lattes or whatever it is they’re called and just indulges in the crispness of autumn. Its beautiful. How could Kageyama mind?  
They sit under the thin foliage of red and orange and the leaves crunch beneath their weight, wrinkling sound mixing with Natsu’s peals of laughter when she tries to climb on her Nii-san’s shoulders. The sound mixes with Kageyama’s breathing, and it’s a symphony, their heartbeats the orchestra and them their own audience. Their breathing picks up pace when Natsu is called away by her friends and they are alone and the sun is sinking to their left. Hands find hands and roam the skin on their necks and lips are over lips and everything is hushed and perfect. “Kageyama,” Hinata says, and his heart stutters and he falls off his pace and Hinata laughs, long and loud, and shouts ridicule at how flustered he gets. He laughs even when Kageyama mumbles, “Dumbass,” and puts his slender fingers behind his head and pulls him close. He laughs in between kisses and when the leaves fall out of his jacket, torn. He laughs even when they flutter away and everything sways in the gentle November wind and they are still, so incredibly still, like puzzle pieces that belong just because, no matter where you put them. The sky is a canvas of yellow and pink and in this moment of pure simplicity and elation, Hinata’s backyard is Kageyama’s universe the way Hinata’s arms are his world.

_Kageyama belongs._

“You make them better than me,” Kageyama pauses for a moment, deciding if Hinata’s statement was a complain or something of similar nature. He thinks its not. Hinata sips on his cocoa some more. “Much, much better than me,” he repeats, and Kageyama looks away when he says, “I get a lot of practice.” Hinata’s eyebrows knit together. “You practice making hot cocoa?” Kageyama chokes on an inhale and his drink explodes in his mouth. “No dumbass, I just make hot cocoa a lot.” “That doesn’t make much sense,” Hinata says, and he slips his legs beneath the kotatsu. Kageyama follows suit, awkwardly shimmying his hips so he could fit in what little space was left beside Hinata. There’s too little space and their knees knock together. “You could take the other side,” Hinata points with his mug, and Kageyama shakes his head.“Don’t wanna,” Hinata makes a face and says, “Sheesh, you’re worse than Natsu.” But he rests his head on Kageyama’s shoulders all the same. They fall asleep like this, and Hinata knew from then on that the only thing he’d ever want to wake up to was Kageyama’s face at rest and his name softly spilling from his lips in the hazy notes of a dream. He smiles at Kageyama, lips still quivering and working around sleepy words and _Hinata_ , and “volleyball” and “toss” and even more _Hinata_ , and really, its all too good.  
“We need to do this more often,” Hinata says, rolling on his side. “The sleepovers in winter?” “Everything,” Hinata replies, waving his arms around for emphasis. “Everything?” “Yes! The cuddles and eating and hot cocoa and kissing and everything,” It’s Kageyama’s turn to flush.  
“You like my kissing?” he asks cautiously. The bedroom door is shut and the house is theirs for the weekend because his parents are on a cruise. In autumn. It was silly. “Yeah, its kinda like your tosses,” he says after a silence. Of all the things to compare it to. “How is it like my tosses?” Hinata sticks his lower lip out in thought. “It feels right.” He sits on the corner of the bed and the springs in the mattress sink to accommodate his weight, and Kageyama walks over to him. The curtains flutter a little and Kageyama kneels on the floor in front of him, takes his hands and brings them to his lips. Hinata doesn’t pull away. Tingles warm his skin where Kageyama kisses him and the morning after is as beautiful as the one before.

“Did you have a good sleep?” The question is mumbled into Hinata’s ruffled hair, and he turns over to bury his face on the crook of Kageyama’s neck. “Mhm,” he says, wriggling closer. “Did you? Have a good sleep?” “Yes, I did.” Hinata sighs contentedly against his skin and when he sits up he’s all smiles and sunlight hits his bare back in the most ethereal way and he’s beautiful even when his hair looks likes a disaster and he trips over himself when he shimmies into his boxers. Kageyama let’s his gaze linger on the marks he left, purple-blue bruises peppered over his back and his chest, trailing up his neck and behind his ears. He’d check himself later, too, eyeing his reflection, flustered as his own gangly fingers smooth over his brightly bruised skin. Their mothers would faint if they saw those.  
Oh, but they had scarves for that.

There’s a carnival the next Monday. Hinata had been "ooh"ing and "aah"ing through the bus ride, flipping through pages of the flyer they had picked up the day before. This was a spontaneous thing, Kageyama calling him up and telling him to grab some clean clothes and some cash and suddenly they are speeding down the highway and Hinata is jumping in his seat and Kageyama wonders what in the world he saw in this little explosive package, wonders why he was so damned inlo--

There are _so_ many colors. Vibrant yellows, greens and blues cut through the monochromatic colors of fall, and when they step in it feels like spring again. People in scarves and long coats pick at the stuffed bears hanging from above, women whoop at the men that swing their giant arms around (Hinata's surprised gasps mingle with theirs) and there are playful screams ringing from the Ferris wheel. The carnival is loud and bustling with life, triangular flags hanging from cords overhead, music pouring out of the colorful tents and into their ears. There's the hum of the cotton candy machine, the loud merry laughter and there's this zippy kind of heat and it's shaking and trembling and suddenly that heat is in his hands and leading him to the tent with the clowns. "This way, Kageyama!" he squawks, and they run and run and everything is overwhelming but in the best way and Kageyama can stay in this swirling little planet with _Hinata_ and sunlight and _Hinata_ and colors and _Hinata_ and laughter and all the Hinata there is in the world. They visit the House of Mirrors next and the heat is a little more quiet and a little more clingy but Kageyama doesn't mind at all. There's Kageyama with a scrunched up face and Hinata who's gotten twice as wide and twice as short. There's Kageyama looking like a twig and Hinata stock-still and in awe of the seven-foot version of himself. There's Kageyama laughing at Hinata's head because somehow, magic maybe, it was the size of his fist. "Yeah," Kageyama hums to himself later. "Its the carnival kind of magic." They run outside again, back into the setting sun and carnival kind of loud and people in scarves clapping at the ones in stilts. The people quiet down and leave by twos Kageyama smiles a little, just a little and he'll nudge him and jerk his head towards home. "We can take the Ferris wheel some other time; its late,"

When the music stops and all they hear are the sounds of fall and all they feel is the crisp cool air Hinata will laugh and point to the top cart and say "I'll jump that high and take you there," Kageyama will nod. "I know you will."

Its two am and the carnival kind of magic has made its way into his bedroom and crept up on him, sprinkling stardust in his hair and watches his chest rise and fall in easy sleep and watch him dream about Hinata taking him to the top cart on the tallest Ferris wheel on the highest autumn cloud.

**Author's Note:**

> okay okay yeah gross cheesy sappy ew
> 
> please lemme know what you think in the comments, thanks in advance for the kudos/bookmarks and everything; i love you you wonderful person ok i hope u have a great day 
> 
> also hmu @seraphim-saurus on tumblr if you wanna swap hc's or have fic requests ok


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